The Tale of The Three Sisters: The Revenge of Rodolphus Lestrange
by Mr. Cobrah Thunderer
Summary: Rodolphus Lestrange is a broken man, treated like a joke by everyone around him. His failed duel with Tonks during The Battle of The Seven Potters was considered the end of his career. But it wasn't. It was just the beginning of a new order. Rodolphus is the last Death Eater left alive, and he will have his long-overdue revenge through his new disciple very, very soon...


Song of The Day:

 **Still Crazy by Hans Zimmer**

A few days before, The Dark Lord brought up the recent union of the werewolf Remus Lupin and that shapeshifting FREAK in order to embarrass myself, my brother, and my beloved for our failures. I am confused. What does some werewhore me and me wife have never laid eyes on have to do with us? It does not matter. He always finds an excuse to punish us. Offhandedly, The Dark Lord brings up the importance of pruning one's family tree. I hate how lovingly she looks into his eyes. I promise myself that I will make her look at me like that one day.

Then, it is what I hear years later will be called "The Battle of The Seven Potters." I am on a broom alongside my beloved and my brother. I see Potter; he is being accompanied by that retarded Auror I hate so very much. Wouldn't be my first choice to defend the so-called "Chosen One." The three of us are in hot pursuit. A storm has been conjured by The Order, Mad-Eye Moody's latest invention. The lightning specifically targets anyone with a Dark Mark and takes them out.

All of the sudden, there is an explosion. The sidecar of a motorcycle explodes about twenty feet away from us. The girl swerves to avoid the blast. That leaves her open to attack. Bellatrix has Potter within her reach, but instead shadow-bends her way towards the girl, knocking her off her broom with a blast from her wand, calling back to us to deal with Potter as she moves to finish her victim off in her own way.

"YOUR WHORE OF A MOTHER AND THAT MUDBLOOD SHOULD HAVE NAMED YOU "NYMPHADIEA," NYMPHADORA!" I jeer.

"HARRY, GO! I CAN DEAL WITH THIS!" the brat bellows as she falls to the ground, waving her wand artlessly to parry and riposte against Bellatrix's relentless assault. Little fool, no one could beat my wife in a duel, and she already failed to stop her once before. Would have been killed right then and there if the animagus Sirius Black had not intervened. Wonder how he would react to know that his noble last stand was made ultimately worthless through his cousin's own stupidity. Ha.

I expected this to be the easy part, but I am sadly mistaken. Potter is only seventeen years old, and yet he fights at a skill far beyond his years. Good. That will make his fall all the sweeter. He flies as fast as he can, shooting jinx after jinx behind him at me and my brother. Fuck The Dark Lord's plan, this orphan is really beginning to piss me off. I raise my wand to unleash the killing curse-

"WOTCHER, RODOLPHUS!"

I jerk my head back in shock. No. It's not possible! I am horrified to see the rising form of Nymphadora Lupin, speeding towards me on a Firebolt of all brooms. She has a devilish grin not unlike Sirius Black's on her face, like the one he had on his face before my beloved killed him…

"EAT THIS, YOU EVIL, DUMBASS, PIECE OF SHIT RAPIST! REDUCTO!"

An orange blast of light flies out of her wand like a cannon, blasting me off my broom. She raises her wand again, bringing it down once more, causing the pure beam of yellow-and-blue lightning towards me.

"AND _DON'T_ CALL ME NYMPHADORA!"

I hope that Rabastan will kill her in my stead, but a stunning spell from Potter blasts him in the face and the brat brings her wand down once again, sending another bolt of lightning at him. The two are soaring off, with Nymphadora snort-laughing at Potter's joke about seeing Rabastan next fall and punching him on the shoulder affectionately. I learn later that me and Rodolphus weren't even outsmarted by the real Potter, it was his lackey Ronald Weasley.

I'm not unconscious until I hit the ground. All of my bones are broken. The man known as Rodolphus Joseph Lestrange is no more. My war is over.


End file.
